and to elicit admiration. We stand in the midst of a farm
of some wealthy proprietor, consisting of a number of fields and gardens,
separated from each other by hedges of cactus or the aloe. At the foot of
the hill, which sloped down on the side furthest from Sicca to one of the
tributaries of the rich and turbid river of which we have spoken, a large
yard or garden, intersected with a hundred artificial rills, was devoted
to the cultivation of the beautiful and odoriferous _khennah_. A thick
grove of palms seemed to triumph in the refreshment of the water's side,
and lifted up their thankful boughs towards heaven. The barley harvest in
the fields which lay higher up the hill was over, or at least was
finishing; and all that remained of the crop was the incessant and
importunate chirping of the _cicadae_, and the rude booths of reeds and
bulrushes, now left to wither, in which the peasant boys found shelter
from the sun, while in an earlier month they frightened from the grain the
myriads of linnets, goldfinches, and other small birds who, as in other
countries, contested with the human proprietor the possession of it. On
the south-western slope lies a neat and carefully dressed vineyard, the
vine-stakes of which, dwarfish as they are, already cast long shadows on
the eastern side. Slaves are scattered over it, testifying to the
scorching power of the sun by their broad _petasus_, and to its oppressive
heat by the scanty _subligarium_, which reached from the belt or girdle to
the knees. They are engaged in cutting off useless twigs to which the last
showers of spring have given birth, and are twisting those which promise
fruit into positions where they will be safe both from the breeze and from
the sun. Everything gives token of that gracious and happy season which
the great Latin poets have hymned in their beautiful but heathen strains;
when, after the heavy rains, and raw mists, and piercing winds, and fitful
sun-gleams of a long six months, the mighty mother manifests herself anew,
and pours out the resources of her innermost being for the life and
enjoyment of every portion of the vast whole;--or, to apply the lines of a
modern bard--

"When the bare earth, till now
Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned,
Brings forth the tender grass, whose verdure clads
Her universal face with pleasant green;
Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flower,
Opening their various colours, and make gay
Her bosom,